Soul of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 2)

“No one is questioning you...” Silvia began.

“It’s absurd.”

I looked at Manuel for help. Somewhere along the line, I’d gotten lost. Luke was freaking out and I had no idea why. Someone needed to fill me in.

“Pregnant women can’t get possessed,” Manuel offered in reply to my questioning expression. Sympathy shone in his dark eyes as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “They’re already supporting another life form. It means that your mother would’ve been possessed before conceiving the child.”

“So?”

It wasn’t like I was possessed. They’d done the test on me.

“Well, it happens often enough in humans,” he whispered. “But never in Nephilim. When a baby of a possessed human is born, it’s still human, but not quite. It retains certain demonic characteristics. They tend to produce very bad people. We’ve traced a few back in history. Stalin, Josef Mengele, Nero. All children of demons.”

I stared wide-eyed at him. Part of me couldn’t grasp what he was saying. “Wait, you said it doesn’t happen to Nephilim?”

“Not that we’ve ever recorded,” he explained with an uncertain tilt of his head. “But not impossible, I suppose. If what this woman says is true, you might be the first. Born of human, angel, and demon.”

My gaze trailed around the room to find the rest of the occupants staring at me. I blinked and looked down at the table, focusing on the random pattern of the wood grains.

Just a few months ago, I’d been forced to realize that I was part angel and that my duty was to guard a gate that kept demons in Hell. Compared to this bomb, that had been easy.

Angels were the good guys. People sang about them, told stories about them, and dreamed of meeting them. Once I’d accepted the idea, I’d felt kind of like a super hero. It was a wonderful feeling. Or, at least it had been.

Until now.

My ears filled with the buzz of the room exploding into an argument. I ignored them and kept focusing on the table, not really seeing anything.

I was a demon. Or part demon. Or something like that. The very essence of the creatures I regularly killed flowed through me. Hatred and evil and cruelty were in my nature. It was no wonder I couldn’t be a proper Nephilim warrior. I wasn’t meant to be one.

Angry tears sprang to the corners of my eyes. I launched up out of my chair, knocking it over in a loud clatter. Silvia shrieked as Manuel tried to grab my arm.

“Lizzy, please,” Luke begged from the other side of the table. “Calm yourself.”

I shook my head. Didn’t he know what he was asking? I’d never been able to calm myself during training. And it was all because of my demon mother. My demon blood.

Granny chuckled, still leaning back in her seat. I glared at her, wishing I could tear her to pieces right then and there. She raised an eyebrow at my defiant stare and took a puff.

“You know, I thought I could break you, girl.” Smoke poured out of her mouth. “Thought I could chase the evil out of you, but I was wrong. You belong in Hell, with that mother of yours. If it were up to me, I’d skewer you with a silver dagger and leave you to rot.”

I lunged across the table, nearly reaching her frumpy buttoned up flannel shirt before Manuel and Luke pulled me back. Granny chortled as Oscar marched her out of the room. I could hear her manic laughter all the way up the stairs and past the lobby.

It wasn’t until they slammed the cell door shut, did the laughing die and along with it, all the fight in my body.

Chapter Ten

My feet traveled back and forth across the dungeon’s floor, carving out a permanent path into the tile. I hadn’t slept last night. Granny’s news had grabbed a hold of me like a vice grip on my brainstem. I was a demon. I was an angel.

Or, something in between.

The only thing I knew for sure was that I was an abomination. My own father hadn’t even been down to visit me since the meeting. Gabe was MIA. I could only guess that news of my parentage had spread throughout the manor. They were probably Lysoling down my old bedroom. Taking a blowtorch to my clothes. Was there a spray that got rid of demon germs?

“This isn’t fair,” I grumbled to the empty room.

I’d given them zero reasons not to trust me. So, I occasionally snuck out and battled a demon or two. I hadn’t done anything remotely evil. Locking me in a dungeon was unfair and unjust. Didn’t I get a trial?

Granny’s words repeated over and over in my head. You belong in Hell, with that mother of yours. It was no wonder my whole life she’d called me cursed. She knew that my mother had been possessed. Frankly, it was surprising that she’d hadn’t just dropped my pregnant mother down an empty well and washed her hands of us. I guess she really was a different person then. But I wouldn’t put it past the Granny I knew now.

I’d tried to live a normal life. I’d gone to that tiny school with kids from all over the county. Just fifteen boys and girls in my class. It was the only time I ever got to be around boys outside the town of Hanna. But even then, I couldn’t fit in. Not only was I taller and lankier than all the girls, but a part of me had always felt unlovable. Like I just didn’t belong. And now I knew why. I’d always carried an evil spark.